Mate Switch: A Tale of the Fett Family
by Lord Hoth
Summary: The galaxy's most notorious bounty hunters get a look at what it's like to be normal...
1. Chapter 1

**STAR WARS**

**Mate Switch:  
****A Tale of the Fett Family**

Chapter 1

Rain spattered onto the surface of a metallic grey helmet—a helmet that was strapped around the head of an exhausted, bedraggled, and soaking-wet humanoid form.

The only sign that betrayed the being's exhaustion was the slight slump to the shoulders. Its posture was completely erect as it stalked across the landing platform of Tipoca City. The clank of its dull-grey boots against the durasteel was drowned out by the noise of unrelenting rain.

The rain on Kamino never ceased; it brought to mind an ancient Mabari metaphor, comparing the hardships and drudgeries of life to precipitation. How such things came in storms, but those storms would eventually end. The rain of adversity wouldn't last forever, and when the storm finally did end, it would produce a crop of new strength and new skills.

Or some such bantha crap.

Here on Kamino, a storm like the one raging above Zam Wesell's head equaled a calm day.

Zam sighed as she engaged the airlock door to the streamlined Tipoca spaceport. It had been a long hunt. A calm day on Kamino was the most she could hope for.

Inside the streamlined, super-clean, ultra-efficient apartment of the Fett family, a calm day was indeed what it was.

And it was driving Jango Fett crazy.

He would never say as much, of course. Not to himself, and least of all to his son, Boba, to whom he strove everyday to impart the boundless patience of a professional bounty hunter.

But not-so-deep inside his battle-scarred head, he was going nuts.

Bounty hunting had seen a dry spell of late. At least, it had for him, widely considered to be the best bounty hunter in the galaxy. Jango Fett had been raised by Mandalorian warriors, and as such had a very strong sense of honor. He was not aware of it, of course; it was simply something bred into him, branded onto his brain by his mercenary family. But Jango Fett would not take a contract that he did not deem worthy of his time. He would not take a contract that did not pay the price for his famous skills.

To a layman, that price equaled out to buckets and buckets of credits.

Unfortunately, here lately, the bounties on the market were a bit depressing.

A Malastarian bureaucrat suspected of embezzling money from the Dug Protection Program. A Corellian spice-runner who'd nearly had his keister handed to him by CorSec, and was now on the run planetside somewhere on Talus. A Duro suspected of masquerading as a Neimoidian servant to steal small valuables from the Dofine estate…

Cheap, petty offers….two magnitudes lower than certifiable _wastes of time _on the Fett scale.

Muttering to himself, Jango cut the connection on his portable holovid that was showing him all the bounties on the market. He stood up, noticing Boba in a nearby easy-chair, reading another one of those silly books.

"Boba, you can watch the holovid," Fett said to his son. "I'm through."

Ever perceptive, Boba looked up and said, "Still no good bounties to take, Dad?"

"No, Boba," the hunter said, picking up the holovid and placing it next to the chair.

"Don't worry," the eight-year-old boy assured him. "Someone'll post something good soon, I bet. What about those Hutt guys? I'm sure someone's bound to p—. Someone's bound to cross one of them sooner or later. That's always happening, right?"

"Everytime I go to Hutt Space, I come back wondering if I'll ever get the smell out of the suit," Jango said.

Boba laughed, and Jango let himself laugh, too. He briefly watched Boba turn on the holovid and start flipping through the frequencies before making his way toward his bedroom.

In truth, there were few things in the galaxy more maddening than sitting in this spotless little apartment with nothing to do. Fett craved an opportunity to truly test his skills, to match wits and blasters with a real opponent, to track down truly elusive quarry. It was what he lived for.

It was time like these he half-considered going to Nal Hutta and hanging around as an enforcer for one of the big slugs. Just so he could see a little action.

But Jango would never do that. After all, what would his son think of him then?

Boba waited until his father was out of the room then went directly to the frequency he wanted. His father had finished his evening ritual just in time. Tonight was the night for one of his favorite programs.

_Mate Switch._

_Mate Switch _was an example of the new trend in holodramas; shows that were unscripted and unrehearsed, about the real lives of real beings across the galaxy.

Privately, Boba knew that his father would disapprove of such fare, even more than he disapproved of regular holodramas. He could not say why. But, like the books he read, he was certain that Jango would consider them a waste of time.

The premise of _Mate Switch_ was simple. Two families, from very different backgrounds and very different worlds, were shown. Then, the directors would shake things up a bit. They would take the wives, the mothers, the females…or whatever the equivalent…the matriarch, out of the homes and send them to the homes of the other. They would be forced to live, for a short time, as the matriarch of the other family did. After about a standard week, the new matriarch was allowed to rewrite the rules of the home and do things her way, and the drama was ramped up even more.

The first episode Boba had seen had taken place entirely on the world of Mon Calamari, a world that looked even wetter than Kamino. The two families were Mon Cal and Quarren respectively. Although the races shared the same planet, they both harbored a distrust, sometimes even dislike for each other, and exchanging matriarchs was awkward, to say the least.

Boba liked watching _Mate Switch_, but not for the drama. Although the antics of the transplanted matriarchs and their bewildered families were sometimes amusing, Boba really liked watching for one main reason.

He liked to see what mothers were like.

Boba had read about mothers in books. But when he asked his father, all Jango would say was, "You have no mother. You are a clone. Which means you are my son, and my son alone. No woman was involved."

Boba told himself that that was enough for him.

But deep down he was still fascinated with the concept, and this holodrama showed him two different mothers from different parts of the galaxy. Every week.

Sometimes he wished he could have a mother just for a day, just to see what they were like.

Boba propped the holovid in his lap, sat back, and watched the 3D images unfold in front of him.

Jango was in his room, cleaning his WESTAR-34 and watching the sea eel in the tank on his dresser, when the door chime pinged.

"Boba!" he called out. "If that's Taun We, tell her I'm in the 'fresher."

"Hold on, Dad," his son answered. "They're doing the Rules-Change Ceremony."

Annoyed, Jango laid his blaster down and headed for the door. It slid open with a small _whoosh_, to reveal the soaking wet form of—

"Zam," the hunter said. "I don't remember you calling."

"Nice to see you, too, Jango," the other bounty hunter said with a sardonic smile. "No, '_How's it going, old friend?_'" She did a fairly good Jango-impression. "'Pretty good, Jango.' '_Would you like a towel and maybe a hot beverage_?' 'That'd be wonderful, Jango, thank-you.' '_How about a foot-rub?_' 'Wow, that'd be great.'"

"Zam, you disgust me."

"A girl tries to look her best." She stepped into the room. "So how's business, old buddy?"

"Call me that again and I'll shoot you between the eyes."

"I travel thousands of light years from Neimoidia, to see my handsome comrade-in-arms and all I get are threats."

"Nothing personal."

"It never is." Zam walked to the 'fresher and helped herself to a towel.

Jango watched her without emotion. "So Neimoida, eh? I take it you went after the Duro?"

Zam toweled off her face. "Ah, what can I say? I found him working for one of the other grub-plantations, not too far from there. Not much of a challenge, but that's a lot of credits for a job so easy."

"For an executive of the Trade Federation? He could have paid you a lot more. The fee was insulting."

"Well, that's true. But what do you expect from a bottom-feeder like me?"

"More than that."

"I'll do better next time, Dad. Speaking of which…where's your favorite son?"

"That's not funny."

"Was I joking?" Zam tossed the towel, walked into the kitchen and started to fix herself a cup of stimcaf.

"He's in there watching the HoloNet."

"You're letting him watch the HoloNet? Isn't that going to melt his brain?"

"Yes. But kids should be kids once in awhile."

"So you are taking my advice?"

"Don't let it go to your head."

Zam poured the stimcaf into a cup and took a sip. "Which one?"

"That one. The pretty one."

"Why Master Fett." She pursed her lips seductively. "Was that a compliment?"

Jango stared at her for a moment, his face as impervious and impossible to read as ever.

He said, "No." He turned and walked back to his room.

The soft, shapely human face of Zam Wesell smiled. She sipped her stimcaf.

Then she went to the living area to find Boba.

Boba was so entranced by _Mate Switch _that he hadn't noticed Zam's entrance. Normally, he would have immediately moved to greet her.

"Boba," said a voice trying very hard to imitate Jango. "Turn off that poodoo and get me a beer."

Boba's face stretched into a smile and he turned to look behind him, where Zam was looking over his shoulder.

"Zam!" he cried out, placing the holoproj on the ground. "It's good to see you." Boba almost stretched out his arms, but caught himself. Hugging was a thing they only did on the HoloNet. How weird would Zam think he was if he tried to wrap his arms around her?

Zam took notice of this with amusement, but made no comment. "What are you watching, kid?"

"_Mate Switch_," Boba said.

"Oh really," was Zam's reply.

"It's great, Zam. This week, they sent a Bith to a houseful of Gamorreans, and the pig-lady to the Bith. It's funny. The Gamorreans are so dumb and dirty and the Bith are so…"

"Smart and clean?"

"How'd you know? Is this a rerun?"

Zam chuckled. "Must be. Anyway, I'm glad your dad is letting you look at holos of something besides ship schematics and starmaps."

Jango came out of the bedroom. "Oh? What's he looking at?" He came up next to Zam and took the cup of stimcaf out of her hands. He took a drink and made a face. "You sure put a lot of cream in that."

"Makes a difference. Boba, quick, change the frequency."

"No. I want to see what he's watching."

"It's called _Mate Switch_, Dad."

"Really? I didn't think they showed things like that on mainstream HoloNet frequencies."

Zam laughed. "Not like that, Jango. It's one of those reality holos. Take two different families and make them switch wives. Hilarity ensues."

"Really? Sounds more like immorality than hilarity."

The other hunter laughed again. "There's no consummation, silly. Just a temporary switch. To see how the families deal with each other."

"Ah. So it's a tame freak show. Nice to know. Boba, don't you think your time would be better spent watching something else?"

Boba's face fell considerably.

"Come now, Jango. There's no harm in some good, low comedy. The boy's life is too serious as it is."

"This is not up for discussion." Jango turned to make his way back to the kitchen. "Finish this program. But find something better to watch tomorrow."

Zam saw the ashamed look on the boy's face and moved to his defense. "It's not going to hurt him, Fett. I thought you were going to let him be a kid once in awhile. You know…let him have a childhood, like the kind you never had?"

Jango turned on her. "That's enough, Zam. What Boba watches is not your concern. This family is not your concern."

"Well whose concern is it then? I'm the only female who ever sets foot in this apartment. You could use a woman's touch once in awhile."

Jango's normally neutral tone was actually hardening into one of anger. "Boba doesn't need a mother. He's _my_ son." He started to leave, then turned around. "And if he did need a mother, I certainly wouldn't call you."

Zam smirked. "Can't blame you."

Jango's voice went back to normal. "Nothing personal."

Zam watched him disappear into the kitchen. "It never is."

She looked down at Boba, who looked to be on the verge of tears.

"Hey, kid," she patted him on the shoulder. "Don't cry. It's no big deal."

"I don't cry," Boba said.

Oh, I know you don't, Zam thought. Your father wouldn't let you do that either.

"Take the holoproj in your room, kid," she said, lowering her voice. "And watch whatever you want."

As was the custom, Zam was to stay in one of the adjoining apartments. She opened the door to her usual room and grinned. Though he wouldn't say another word to her the rest of the night, Jango had called the Kaminoans to accommodate the room for her.

Zam showered and ditched her bodysuit for one of her more comfortable robes. Quietly, using her hunters' stealth, she crept back into the Fetts' apartment. The doors to the bedrooms were always open. She looked in on Jango first and found him snoring.

_The biggest and baddest of us all_, she thought. _Always telling me that he sleeps with one eye open._

She checked in on Boba. He had fallen asleep with the holoproj still running.

It was scrolling through starship schematics.

She stepped inside and turned it off, sighing. Those two would never change.

Boba heard Zam's footsteps and watched her leave with his one open eye. He waited a moment, hearing the distant whir and very faint click of the door that separated the apartments, shutting.

He climbed out of bed, picked up the holoproj, and carried it to the living area where Dad had left the comm unit. He plugged the projector into the unit, keyed in a frequency, and waited.

Like any great bounty-hunter-in-training, Boba was patient and stealthy and he knew how to make plans.

And Boba had a plan.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It was a bright, sunshiny morning. Boba crawled out of bed and began dressing, excited at the prospect of a new day.

"Boba!" a voice called. "Time for breakfast."

Boba ran out of his room and into the kitchen. He stopped and rubbed his eyes in disbelief. Where their small table had once been, there was now a huge one, piled with all sorts of foods: toast, nerf sausage, fruit juice, stimcaf, and cereal.

And there, standing clad in a white apron and big mitts, was his mother.

"Boba," she said kindly. "You're finally awake. It's about time. It's time for breakfast, son."

Boba took a seat at the table. "Breakfast? Is this all for me?"

"Of course not," his mother said. "You must save some for your father."

"Honey!" came the voice of Jango from the bedroom. "Have you seen my necktie?"

"Didn't you leave it on the couch, dear?"

"I suppose I…." Dad could be heard moving from one room to the next. "There it is."

Jango Fett walked into the kitchen, clad in Mandalorian armor, sans helmet, looking bewildered as he tried to fasten a necktie around his neck. "_Gornt poodoo_," he muttered.

"Now, dear," Mother said, turning and smiling at her son. "Not in front of Boba."

Jango turned and smiled, too. "Good-morning, son. How did you sleep?"

Boba was cramming nerf sausage into his mouth. "Great, Dad."

"Wonderful." His smile shifted back to his confused look as he fiddled with the tie. "Honey, could you help me with this? I can't seem to—"

"Here, let me." She grinned and walked over to him, expertly tying it about his neck. She stepped back, looking at him, very pleased. "There. Perfect."

"Not quite. Jango turned and plucked the last piece of his ensemble, the helmet, off the counter. He placed it on his head and looked at them. "Well. How do I look?"

"Like the most handsome man in the universe, dear." Mother poured a cup of steaming stimcaf. "But aren't you going to eat before you go?"

"I'll take something with me. Gonna be a big day at the office."

Still smiling. "Well then. Knock em dead, honey." Mother leaned over and kissed the side of the helmet.

"Yeah. Knock em dead, Dad," Boba said.

"Oh don't worry. I will. Good-bye, dear. Good-bye, son." Jango turned to leave, armor, tie and all.

"Bye, Dad!"

"Bye, Honey!"

Boba sat up swiftly, then realized he was not in the kitchen with his father and imaginary mother. He was still in bed, and he had been having a dream. He went to the window and opened the blinds. Outside, the sky was dark and the rain was pouring down. Just like always.

Boba's face fell for only a moment. He started dressing. It was time for breakfast.

In his own room, Jango's head shot off the pillow like an ion blast. He grabbed his WESTAR-34 instinctively. But he relaxed instantly, realizing…it had only been a nightmare.

Just a horrible, horrible nightmare.

At breakfast, Jango and Boba sat at their small table. Like everything on Kamino, it was streamlined and efficient. They crunched happily on their efficient breakfast, a biscuit and nondescript meat patty that had come out of the ultra-efficient Kaminoan food synthesizer.

The door whirred open and Zam Wesell entered, wearing her bodysuit, sans helmet and heavy weaponry. She sauntered into the kitchen as though she lived there.

"Zam. So glad you still remember how to knock."

The other hunter snapped her fingers. "I _knew_ I forgot something. And here I was thinking it was my undergarments."

Boba giggled. "Please, Zam," his father said. "We're trying to eat here."

"And I wouldn't want to interrupt you while you were enjoying your most delicious meal," Wesell replied. "But have you checked the bounty postings this morning?"

"Not yet. I only woke up an hour ago."

"Early hawkbat gets the grub."

"What's a hawkbat?" Boba asked.

Jango continued crunching on his biscuit. Zam decided to answer. "Kind of like an aiwha, only a lot smaller. And their poop stinks worse."

Boba laughed. Jango rolled his eyes.

Zam continued. "A new job came up this morning. Out of Bothawui. Target's supposed to be still in the sector."

"Great," Jango said. "A Bothan high-crime. Probably a slicer who embezzled credits with his computer, right?"

"That's what Bothans do best."

"How much is the bounty?"

"Five thousand."

"I'll pass."

"Aw, come on, Jango. It's close enough that it'll be worth your loss in starship fuel. It'll be some extra credits coming your way." She picked up one of the meat patties, and dropped it disdainfully. "Maybe you'll be able to afford some better food."

"I don't need the credits. I've got plenty of money coming in from the cloners. Besides." He took a bite of the patty. "I like this food."

"Come on, Jango. I know you've got to be going stir-crazy here."

"Stir crazy," Boba repeated thoughtfully. "What's that, Dad?"

"Something I'm not," Jango replied. "Look, Zam. Today I start another round of training programs with the soldiers. Someone is paying me well for an army of the best soldiers in the galaxy. I don't intend to disappoint them."

Zam looked at the hunter, down at Boba, then back at him again. "Are you sure? I could use the company."

"You'll do fine on your own."

"Yeah. No doubt there." Zam took a step back. "All right. Suit yourself, Fett. But I don't want to hear you asking for a loan when I get back."

"You'll be safeguarded from that possibility if you don't _come_ back."

Zam grinned. Jango might hardly ever smile, but she'd come to appreciate his friendly jabs. "You may be the biggest and baddest of us all. But you're not that lucky."

Zam turned and walked out.

Boba stared at his father, who finished chewing his last bite and then looked at him.

"What is it, son?"

"Nothing. I forgot you were training the clones today."

"It's my job, son."

"I know."

Jango looked at him, stood up, scraped his plate, then took Boba's plate, finding it clean and empty of crumbs. "You're a good boy, Boba," he said. "Enjoy your solitude while I'm gone. Time alone is important for a bounty hunter."

"Okay, Dad."

Jango headed for his room to change, then to the proving grounds to start the training program.

At least the clones would see some action today.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_Holo-footage from the opening segment of _Mate Switch, _Week 48_

_Denon HoloCast Productions_

_Ext. Shot Apartment Complex_

_(white streamlined ovular structures)_

_Tipoca City_

_Kamino_

_0900_

_Narrator's voice: _Meet the Fetts.

_Int. Fett Apartment. Living area. Jango and Boba playing a game of dejarik, while Zam Wesell sits in a nearby chair, filing her nails. Jango looks up at the camera. _Who are you? What the hell are you doing here?

_Narrator. _The Fetts are a small family living in an apartment on the rain-planet Kamino.

_Shot of a mounted aiwha swooping through waves._

_Narrator. _The Kaminoans are a very private people who value efficiency and perfection.

_Moving shot of the white corridors of Tipoca City. Taun We blocks their path._ Excuse me, but that is a restricted area. You were not given landing clearance. I really must insist that you leave.

_A hand from behind the camera reaches out and hands her a credit chit. _We're just doing a little film project, ma'am.

_Taun We examines the chit, and her eyes widen. _This way, please.

_Narrator. _The Fetts fit in well, here, as they, too, value efficiency and perfection. Father, Jango, is a bounty hunter and killer-for-hire.

A shot of a fully armored Jango, firing his blaster pistol at a target on the proving grounds. Cut back to a shot of Jango, in the apartment, in the camera's face. I really think you need to leave. 

_Narrator. _Mother, Zam, is also a mercenary.

_Zam stops filing her nails. _Hey look, bucko. I'm not anybody's mother. Get that thing out of my face.

_Narrator. _Son, Boba, sometimes goes on bounty hunting missions with his dad. But usually, he stays at home, spending his day reading books from the Tipoca City library.

_Shot of Boba walking off the deck of _Slave I, _followed by a shot of him in his chair, reading a book. _

_Narrator. _With all the emphasis on bounty-tracking and killing, there's not much time for family bonding.

_Jango glares at Zam. _Zam, what in the Unknown Regions did you do?

_Zam. _Don't look at me. I didn't let these people in.

_Jango pulls his WESTAR-34 out from under the dejarik board._

_Zam. _Maybe you should call Taun We.

_Jango. _I can handle intruders myself.

_Narrator. _Daddy Jango can be a bit touchy.

_Jango fires his blaster, knocking a crew member to his death with a brief, truncated scream._

_Narrator. _But he might just learn a little sensitivity when he meets his new mate.

_Jango, already holding his blaster to another cameraman's head, looks at the holocam. _New mate?

_Slowly, all eyes in the room turn toward Boba._

It is chaos in the Fetts' apartment. A multispecies crew of holodrama-makers has cams positioned around the apartment. One of the crew members lies on the floor, a smoking blaster-wound in the center of his forehead. Jango has his blaster held to another's head. The others regard the scene with a mixture of fear and determination with the idea planted in their head that _this will make great holodrama._ Zam sits in her chair, bewildered but clearly amused. At the center of it all is Boba Fett, trying not to look embarrassed at the fact that every eye, eyestalk, or photoreceptor in the room is trained on him.

"I called them, Dad," he admitted. "I thought it would be cool."

There is a collective sigh of relief and Jango lowers his pistol. He turns, walks the distance to his son, then begins speaking rapidly in Huttese.

Boba's face turns red. Zam stands up angrily. She lets loose her own burst of Huttese.

Jango answers in the language of the underworld, jabbing at the air with his fingers.

Zam responds, her voice escalating, her hands gesticulating wildly.

Boba interjects with his own outburst in the same language.

"Enough!" Jango cries out. "There will be no filming of our home. Period. This is not up for discussion."

"I'm sorry, Boba," Zam said. "You don't have a mother to swap anyway."

Boba grinned.

"Oh no." Zam stepped back. "Not a chance."

"And besides," Jango put in. "A bounty hunter needs his privacy. The last thing we need is every being in the galaxy knowing what my real face looks like."

"Why?" Zam asked. "Are you ashamed of it?"

"We could change your name," one of the crew members put in. "That's not a problem."

"But you being in my house is a problem. I'm a busy man."

"Boba informed us of your extenuating circumstances when he called."

"Extenuating circumstances?" Jango repeated. "What—."

"We agreed to double the usual compensatory amount we pay to our subjects," the director said. "One hundred thousand credits."

"I don't care if--." Jango was cut off as Zam Wesell held up a hand. "Did you say a hundred-thousand credits?"

Boba grinned.

Zam looked at Boba. Boba looked at his father. Jango stared at Zam.

"Bounty hunter conference," Zam said. "Your room."

The two hunters had moved to Jango's room and closed the door.

"Come on, Jango. A hundred thousand credits. Just to let these fools _film_ you for a few days. Tell me that's not the best contract you've been offered this year."

"That's ridiculous, Zam. That's not a contract. It's an insult. Cheapening my life, whoring out my family to the masses for a few creds. I refuse."

"No, Fett. Not a few creds. A _lot_ of creds."

Jango crossed his arms.

"What about Boba? You won't even do this for him?"

"Boba doesn't understand yet just how much of a _bad_ idea this is."

"He doesn't have to understand. A hundred-thousand credits. I'll even split em with you. Right down the middle."

"Gee, thanks."

"Ya know, Jango. It's times like these, when you turn down buckets of money for _principles_, I wonder if maybe you've gone soft."

Fett scowled, and Zam knew she had struck a chord.

"Fifty-fifty, huh?"

"And all you have to do is stay here and make nice for the camera. I'm the one who has to go to a distant planet and play mommy."

Jango's face twisted into one of those extremely rare Fett smiles. He reached for the door.

A wave of apprehension washed over Zam. "Only—I wonder what sort of family I'll be swapped in to."

Jango was still smiling, a very creepy phenomenon. "It's like you said, Zam. Just the exact opposite of us."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

_Holo-footage from the Segment 1B of _Mate Switch, _Week 48_

_Denon HoloCast Productions_

_Int. Fett Apartment_

_Narrator: _It's the day of the swap, and Mommy Zam is a bit nervous.

_Zam sitting in a chair, looks to the side, then at the camera. _Did he just call me Mommy?

_Narrator. _She doesn't know what to expect when she meets her new family.

_Zam talking to Jango in the kitchen_. What if they're freakin' Aqualish or something? I don't think I could stand the smell. You know how bad Aqualish smell? 

_Jango: _Not live ones, no.

_Narrator: _Little Boba, however, is excited.

_A shot of Boba feeding the eel in the tank in Jango's bedroom, then cut to Boba sitting on the edge of a bed._ I like Zam—I mean, Mommy—but I'm looking forward to seeing what someone else's, um—mommy is like.

_Narrator: _Father Jango, as usual, has nothing but work on his mind.

_Jango, suited up in his armor, holding the helmet under one arm. _I'm going down to the proving ground to train the (audio track goes silent and a black bar appears over Jango's mouth) for the (). I'll be back in (). If the () calls, have him page me through ()'s office.

_Narrator: _Zam is packed and ready, and she says good-bye to her son.

_Zam, decked out in full body-suit and helmet, stands at the door, staring down at Boba. _Well, good-bye, um…son. _She reaches down and tentatively pats him on the head. _Don't forget to um, eat those—ya know—green things.

_Shot of Boba's confused face. _Hawkbats?

_Zam smiles. _Yeah, that's it. Bye. _She turns, secures her privacy scarf around her face, and walks out the door._

_Narrator: _And now it's time for Boba's new mother to arrive.

The director waved a hand. "And _cut_!"

The holocams turned off and crew members began wheeling equipment out of the way.

"Wait a minute," Boba said. "I thought you said it was time for my new mother to get here."

"That was just for the tape, kid," the director, a Human male, said. "Your new mom won't get here for another 5 Standard."

"Minutes?" Boba asked.

"No. Hours."

"Oh. Well, what am I supposed to do until then?"

The director looked at him puzzled. "I don't know. Whatever you usually do."

"But, who's going to look after me? You guys are the only ones here."

The director sat down in a folding chair and bit into a spice cake. "We'll watch you, kid. Don't worry." He dribbled crumbs on the floor, then noted Boba's concerned expression. "Um." He held out the half-eaten confection. "Spice cake?"

Boba shook his head. "The maid droid's not going to be happy that you did that."

The director leaned back in his chair. "Big freakin' deal. Like I'm really afraid of some maid droid anyway."

Just at that moment, a Kaminoan maid droid came whirring and chucking into the room on its repulsorlifts. Like all Kaminoan creations, it was white to the Human eye (though it was a pleasing combination of colors in the ultraviolet spectrum) and built to be streamlined and highly efficient. The droid was, however, something close to 3 meters tall.

The director barely had time to start in surprise before the droid's large retractable arms had picked up his chair and unceremoniously dumped him from it. The director yelped and crawled away just as a large vacuum tube came out of a hidden socket and began sucking up anything smaller than the chair itself.

As quickly as it had come, the maid droid moved on to the next room, whirring and chucking its disapproval at the state of the kitchen.

"Well," the director said rubbing his head. "At least your new mom won't have to worry about the housework."

Jango Fett stood on a platform with Taun We, overlooking the proving grounds where hundreds of white-armored troopers were marching in perfect unison.

Or at least, what looked to a layman to be perfect unison.

"Their rhythm is still off," Jango said to the supernaturally thin, pale-skinned alien next to him.

Taun We, with her Kaminoan eye for absolute perfection, was one of the small percentage of beings in the galaxy who could see it, too. "Yes," she acknowledged. "But it has seen great improvement with your training programs. Ko Sai and the other scientists did not believe it possible. But your programs have improved upon a regiment that was already operating at a 99.867 efficiency rate."

Jango's eyes were still fixed on the soldiers. "Numbers mean nothing. They need more work."

The hunter took his helmet off a nearby shelf and slid it over his head. Without another word, he leaped over the edge of the platform, descending several hundred meters straight into the proving grounds. It seemed to Taun We that he only engaged the rocket-pack on his back as an afterthought.

The Kaminoan crossed her long, skinny arms, shook her head and sighed.

She might never understand Jango Fett's methods.

But she had come to realize in a way that no Kaminoan before had, that she didn't have to understand.

All she had to do was sit back and watch.


End file.
